


if i could turn you on

by tosca1390



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-25
Updated: 2011-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-26 13:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon hears of her long before he ever meets her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if i could turn you on

**Author's Note:**

> Modern College AU.

*

Jon hears of her long before he ever meets her.

Among the upperclassmen, the talk ripples. His teammates from the rugby team curl their mouths around her name in between drills and weight lifting in the dead of winter. They are all in poli-sci, and so is she; a young rising star, flaming hot and fast.

"You'd like her, Jon. She'd warm you right up," his mates tease.

Jon shrugs and studies, always studies. After Ygritte, he couldn't imagine anyone else. His mind is focused on his studies, on performing above and beyond everyone's expectations. He has no use for younger students and their charms, especially one whose tongue is known for its fire and spark.

In the end, though, she finds him.

He walks into the class he's TAing for (Politics and Pedagogy in the United States), and sits in the back, as is his wont. Tyrion Lannister likes his TAs in the back, as constant centurions and reminders that someone is always watching, and Jon doesn't mind in the least. He sits on the aisle, watching idly as the underclassmen trail in, some still in their pyjamas.

"The infamous Jon Snow."

He glances up and immediately straightens in his seat, mouth running dry. A slim wisp of a woman looks him up and down, hair so blonde it could be silver flowing past her shoulders. His skin is pale against the red of her sweater, her eyes an otherworldly blue-violet.

"How did you know?" he asks after a moment, dumbfounded.

She tilts her head and smiles, a sharp slice of white. "Your beard and hair are well-known."

Color creeps up his throat towards his face. "And you are?"

"Dany," she says, creeping into his personal space. He breathes her in; she is something like sand and lilac and sweet smoke. "I've been looking for you for a whole semester and a half now."

"Why?" he asks, still stupefied.

She smooths her hair back from her shoulders, her arm curled around her books and notebook as she holds them against her hip. "I hear you may be the only one who could keep up with me."

Wetting his lips, he stands from the stiff lecture hall seats. She is smaller than he realized; he towers shoulders and head over her. Yet he feels cowed by her bravado and her sharp smile. Something curls hot and deep in his middle, an ache he hasn't felt for years, since Ygritte. "Is that so?"

"Though I hope this isn't your best, right here," she says with a faint drawl, mouth curling with amusement.

Mouth thinning, he puts his hand out for hers. "You'll just have to wait and see, Dany," he says. Her name slides off of his tongue easily, leaving his mouth warm and longing.

Her hand fits into his, snug and petite; her skin is overwarm, heat flickering between their skins. "Looking forward to it, Jon," she murmurs before continuing down the steps towards the front of the hall. Her silver-blonde hair catches in the harsh light, soft and entrancing.

Jon watches her walk for a long moment before he remembers to sit, remembers to try and look intimidating. The hand that had held hers, he curls it into the fist, trying to keep some of her red-hot warmth on his skin.

He wants more.

*


End file.
